


Flitting Papers

by Moransroar



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Implied MorMor, M/M, Soulmate AU, happiness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 10:49:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3065003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moransroar/pseuds/Moransroar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twenty-six year old Richard Brook knows nothing of soul mates, until a handsome blond crashes into his life and changes that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flitting Papers

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to Tumblr's moriartymakinitrainpresents because the poor bae was sad today, I hope this will cheer you up a bit darling <3
> 
> Also, this is based on one of my Omegle prompts, so if you've ever seen this on there... Hi!

Richard had always been very fixated on finding out what the tiny blue numbers on the inside of his wrist meant, as it seemed to him like they counted down to something. What that something was, however, his brother had always been reluctant and even unwilling to tell him, so it had remained a mystery to Richard.

He had been homeschooled, thus had never learnt about soul mates and the purposes of the numbers from friends nor teachers. Confused as he was, he hadn’t had time to pay much attention to it as of late, because his career had been quite demanding. Not even when it had come down to a single zero. It was when he was going for an audition- one of which he knew his career could either get a whole lot better, or worse- when he noticed that his counter had stopped actually counting. Thick script in his arms, he stared down at his arm in major confusion.

Seeming as he still didn’t know what they were there for in the first place, the dark-haired man merely blinked at his arm before discarding it, snapping his head up to continue in his path when he collided with someone who had been equally distracted, dropping the papers of his script which were picked up and dragged away by the wind. “Sor- Oh, no no no...” He scrambled hastily for what he could still gather, grazing his knees quite painfully as he dropped down in a feeble attempt at rescuing the script from total vanishing.

 

Severin Moran never paid attention to the marks on his wrist. He considered them important, that wasn’t it, but since they had read- at the day of his birth- that he would have to wait almost thirty years, he thought he might as well live life like he wanted, and not concentrate on the clock too much.

Nevertheless, he had spent his childhood dreaming about what his soul mate would look like, what they would be like, and how it would feel to meet them. Some children were lucky enough to have counters that read a very low waiting time, and Severin had seen many people throughout his life getting bonded and meeting their soul mate. At first, he had been jealous, and especially anxious that his mark might turn black somewhere in his life. He couldn’t have that, he absolutely couldn’t bear the thought of never being able to meet his mate.

But as the years crept by, every time he casually glanced at the counter, it was still blue, and still slowly counting down. Now was another one of those moments. Just casually glancing down as he dragged his feet over the curbs of London, blinking at it read a single five, then a four, then a three, followed by a two.. a one. Zero.

 

Richard sighed heavily as he kneeled on the curb, a pained look of longing painting his expression as he watched how several sheets of paper flew out of his reach and onto the busy streets. That was bad, that was really, really bad. How are you supposed to learn the lines of an oncoming play if you don’t have the script? How was he supposed to audition when he didn’t know a single word?

It didn’t occur to him that the one he had bumped into was also gathering white sheets of paper, crouching and apologizing over and over again. The man probably thought it was just a report on something. He probably didn’t know what this meant to Richard. With slumped shoulders and a half gone, wrinkled and torn script clutched to his chest, he rose to his feet, turning to meet the man’s gaze gravely, but stilled as his eyes met a pair of beautiful blues.

 

“Christ, I am so, so sorry,” Severin felt like he could slap himself across the jaw as the other seemed to explode into papers, immediately dropping to the ground to do as the stranger did, but it was no use. The sheets were gone, and with the lost way the other sat on his knees, staring after what was picked up by the breeze, Severin felt incredibly guilty. It must have been important to the man, somehow. What Severin had managed to gather and rescue, he held in his hands, an apologetic little grimace on his lips as he straightened and handed them to the other.

“Sorry about that, I wasn’t watching where I was going..” he mumbled, looking up to meet dark chocolate eyes, and something in his chest stuttered and leapt. And then he remembered. His counter; it had said a zero. A single zero, Severin was sure. The blond glanced down briefly, amazed, before shifting his gaze to take in the sight of the smaller man who was standing a little sadly.

 

Richard accepted the apology in spite of himself, shaking his head dismissively, “It’s fine, really.” It wasn’t fine, not exactly.

Then again, since the audition was that day, and he had just been on his way to a coffee shop he frequented to study his lines for the hundredth time, he was bound to at least know something, no? His heart thumped frantically against his ribcage, the aftermath of the sudden panic he had felt when he saw his script disappearing without anything he could do about it, he took a few breaths and raked a free hand through his hair.

“I wasn’t looking where I was going, either, so I don’t blame you,” he said a little sheepishly, watching the other man watching a few of the papers that flitted in the wind.

 

“No, really. I owe you those papers,” Severin quipped back with a crooked grin, eyes trained on the traffic and calculating his chances. “Wish me luck then, eh?”

He shot the smaller brunet a wink before heading into the street. He leapt off the curb and onto the asphalt, reaching out for the blur of white, unfortunately crumpling them a little as he grasped them. A few cars honked, people watched with horrid expressions, but Severin was concentrated on getting the man his stack back.

Two almost-accidents later, Severin returned with the lost papers, a bit worse for wear but they were still perfectly readable. “You’re an actor?” He questioned, panting a little. Did the man not know that his counter must have stopped counting? Or was this the wrong person entirely, and had Severin missed his soul mate by crashing into the stranger?

 

Richard almost dropped the whole stack of papers again as he went to hurry after the blond stranger, eyes wide and a yell of protest dying in his throat before it fell off his lips. He stayed safely on the curb, however, watching with a horrid expression and his heart in his throat how the man meandered through traffic, flinching whenever a car came too near to him to his liking.

“You’re mad,” he breathed when the other returned, unable to hide his awe. “Erm, yeah. Yes, a stage actor, currently,” He nodded quickly, a hot blush creeping onto his cheeks as the papers were handed back to him. “Thank you, you really didn’t have to do that. That was amazing. Thank you.” Shifting from foot to foot, Richard fumbled to get the papers in a more neat stack, forcing his lips together in a tight line not to babble too much.

 

“Careful,” Severin warned, stepping forward and helping the other arrange the papers in a pile, “You might drop them again.”

As soon as Severin saw a glimpse of the stranger’s pale wrist, he swallowed as his heart seemed to stop, then restart with accelerated speed.

So it was him.

He decided to take a somewhat careful approach. “And really, no problem. Wouldn’t be a normal day if I didn’t risk my life one way or another,” he chuckled, “Hey, would you like to grab a coffee? I was on my way to this small café, just around the corner.” He smiled brightly, hopefully—although he tried his best to hide that. There was something that kept the other man from realising the situation, and Severin just hoped that it was because he was too busy with his script and the stress the incident had caused.

“What am I doing? I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Severin,” and he held out a hand for the other to shake.

 

Richard’s heart flitted in his chest, much like the papers had previously done, but was grateful for the help the taller man provided with restacking his script. It wasn’t in the right order anymore, but it was complete; and that was all that mattered. He shifted the script to one arm so he could extend the other and introduce himself.

“Brook- Richard. I’m Richard,” he stumbled, frowning at himself. How he was a decent actor, Richard sometimes questioned his own ability. Not seriously, he knew he was a fairly good actor. But some things about himself amazed him, where other things made him sigh inwardly. Like this; stumbling with introducing himself. But the blond’s smile merely widened and so did Richard’s, who nodded.

“Yes, I’d like that, actually.”

 

Severin was quick to cock his head in the direction of the end of the street, just around the corner on Covent Garden. Small café, quiet with almost only regular customers. Severin was one of them.

“Great. Figured you owe me a bit of company since I nearly died out there,” he teased before starting to lead the way. The way Richard blushed and apologized yet again made it all worthwhile, though, and he figured he might as well breach the subject of their wrists immediately to get it out of their way. What if this was one of those people who ignored it? Who would rather tattoo over it or have it surgically removed rather than actually pay attention to it.

“So, I see you’ve met your soul mate.”

 

“I told you, you didn’t have to do that.” Richard followed suit, eyes on their path this time, rather than what had distracted him before the collision. The bold yet somehow careful way Severin went about interested Richard, and for some reason it didn’t feel strange at all to follow the man he had just met, to a café he had never been to. God knows what could have happened, but Richard had the feeling it would be alright, that he could trust the stranger with anything; and it was the oddest feeling in the world.

His zero itched, and Richard frowned down at it for a moment, before shaking his head marginally and looking back up to the road they were following, turning a corner.

“Soul mate? There’s no such thing as soul mates, but..” he chuckled quietly, “I haven’t, no.”

 

“No such thing as soul mates?” Severin wondered, a bit confused. “Of course there is.”

He lead them into the café, sitting them down at a small table next to the window, and laid his arm upon the table with the inside of his wrist turned up, showing Richard the mark. The tiny blue zero. “You’ve got the same, haven’t you? I saw it when you busied yourself with your script.” He motioned for Richard to put his arm on the table as well, next to his own, and pointed out the two similar zeros.

“Don’t you know?” It was possible, but only just. There were but few who had never heard of soul mates, since it was educated in almost every public primary school. There was the possibility that Richard had either never been to a public primary school, or had been homeschooled overall. God, the man must have been isolated.

 

It was something of a fairytale, wasn’t it? Richard couldn’t quite grasp it, thought that Severin was playing tricks on him, but when it turned out that he had the exact same mark on his wrist as Richard had, it all started to seem a little bit more believable. Both of their arms upon the table, Richard listened to Severin explain, jaw dropping and eyes widening almost comically.

“Soul mates exist? Like, genuinely exist,” he murmured, shaking his head in disbelief. “But that must mean that..”

 

Severin nodded, the other not having to finish his sentence. He knew. They knew. And Severin considered himself incredibly lucky.

Shorter than he, dark hair and beautiful chocolate eyes. Things couldn’t have turned out better for him? And gender didn’t matter, gender had never mattered.

“We’re soul mates,” he confirmed, watching how Richard’s eyes seemed to light up, and feeling yet another wild flutter in his stomach, making him chuckle. “I assume you were never taught about all this, eh? Well, that thing on your wrist was your counter; counting down until the day you would meet your soul mate. I figured, since you said you haven’t met them yet, we must be it.”

 

So that was why Jim had always been so reluctant over telling him about his counter. Richard’s brother was very careful with Richard, very protective but also very secretive with a lot of things. Richard didn’t understand why, but the fact that Jim always carried a gun with him gave him well enough of an indication. Dangerous business, and Richard meant a lot to Jim.

But it hadn’t been his choice to keep it from his twin, Richard found that he was mature enough to decide for himself what was good for him and what wasn’t. And Severin, he thought, was definitely good for him. “I never knew,” he whispered, turning his hand to ghost his fingertips over the blue zero on Severin’s wrist, totally enamoured. It was crazy, and perhaps a bit scary, but it seemed so perfect. “Wow...”

 

Shivering lightly under Richard’s touch, he watched how his zero disappeared, slowly but surely. A little gasp from Richard startled him a little, and when the brunet began apologizing he shushed him. “Watch...” It took a few seconds, but dark ink slowly drifted to the surface again, Severin’s grin only broadening with the heavy fluttering of his heart. In turn, the blond turned his own hand to press against Richard’s mark, which also disappeared, its place taken by a different kind of tattoo.

Severin’s palm rested on Richard’s, who slowly twined their fingers together, and both of them looked up until their eyes met.

Dark chocolate and icy blue, two polar opposites.

 

An afternoon and a few coffees later, and somewhere across London, in an abandoned warehouse at the docks, a dark-haired man very much like Richard received a text message. An image, two wrist. One distinctively Richard’s- he could tell- and the other unfamiliar. The wrists read two names, the unfamiliar arm bore the name of the man’s twin brother, and the other read a name unknown to him.

Richard and Severin.

So Richard had found out.

Chewing on his bottom lip, Jim pocketed his phone and entered the warehouse where a blond man was held, and a surprise awaiting the both of them.

 


End file.
